Moonglow
by TheyCallMetheTailor
Summary: Pidge is worried when Lance fails to show up for their morning one-on-one training session. She's pretty sure she's going to have to chew him out for this later, but when she breaks in to his room - just to be sure, of course - she finds him in need of her help. Oneshot done for Lance Loves Ladies Week ran by McClainNetwork on Tumblr. Under the prompt: Morning / Nights.


Pidge was worried. They'd been working one on one in the practice room for the past couple months, but Lance hadn't shown up this morning. Granted, it wasn't the end of the world, but she'd pounded on his door three times now and he still wasn't answering. He hadn't missed a session once since they'd started. She'd ran over to the closest computer interface and checked the various surveillance cameras, but she hadn't been able to find him in the kitchen, back at the training room, or any of his other usual hang outs. Could he be in someone else's room? The thought set her ears to burning for some reason.

She shook her head. He would've sent her a message or something, wouldn't he? She pounded again at his door, stifling another illogical spike of anxiety. "Lance!" she called out, "We won't have time for training if you don't wake up!"

He was probably fine, she decided, and she was freaking out over nothing. She would try one more time, then wait to chew him out for skipping out on their training later. The jerk. She lifted her hand for her last try when a muffled noise behind the door made her pause, hand hovering over the door and breath stilled. The metal door to Lance's room was too thick to hear anything properly, but she could've sworn she'd heard Lance's voice. Maybe her overactive and under rested brain had conjured the noise out of thin air?

She pressed her ear to the door, annoyed that her overly emotional heart was thumping so loudly. She jumped when she heard it again, this time much more clearly.

Was Lance...crying? Only, that wasn't quite a strong enough word for the awful throat-grating sobbing noise she could hear even through his door.

"Lance…." she tried again, hesitant. Fear that he would and wouldn't answer ripping at her from both sides. She shouldn't be here. She was the worst possible person for this sort of thing.

Lance didn't respond, just kept making that stupid sound. It was the worst noise she'd heard come out of his mouth, she thought, and there was a lot to choose from where that came from. It made her skin itch like there was something under it and her heart squeeze under the force of an invisible fist.

"Damnit, Lance, open this door or I'll open it myself." Pidge said, shoving as much irritation as she could into her voice. There. Almost convincing to her, even.

Still, there was no answer from Lance, just that crying noise again.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she said. It was stupidly easy to hack into the panel beside his door and toggle the controls to open it. She'd have to look into beefing up their security. Later, though, after she'd dealt this this idiot.

" _Lance_ ," she said as she entered, not even waiting for the door to open completely on the way in. She wasn't worried, obviously. Just impatient to reassure herself that Lance was his usual annoying self and get on with her day.

She nearly tripped over him on the way in. She couldn't hold back her gasp at the sight of him. He was on this floor. His whole body contorted into an unnaturally small ball. An inverted version of his normally over expansive self. His muscles were rigid and shaking, and still, he was making that awful sobbing noise. It was worse now that she could hear it clearly.

Okay, _now_ she was a little worried.

"Lance?" she asked, kneeling down next to him, trying to get a good look at his face, but he'd curled into the crook of an elbow. She could see below his nose, though, and her breath caught. On his cheeks were unnatural silver tears gleaming in the dim light coming from outside.

"Lance," she tried more forcefully, voice shaking. She was in uncharted territory here, but if there was one way she knew to comfort Lance, it was through touch. She reached toward him, finger barely grazing his skin, and his reaction was instantaneous.

He flung himself away from her, scuttling away as fast as his awkward movements could take him. She saw his eyes then, and the sight was a knife of ice in her gut.

"Lance, your eyes…" she breathed in wonder. Or terror. Or both. His _eyes_.They were _glowing_. Not in the metaphorical sense either. They were the deep blue of a frigid ocean. Iridescent. And she swore they were glowing even brighter than before. The glow lit his features at an unnatural angle. If he didn't look so stricken, she might've been fascinated. As it was, she couldn't choke out any more words.

Lance had finally stopped sobbing, but he was pressed against the wall, eyes locked unnervingly in her direction, but not _on_ her. He moved like a light deprived rat navigating by sound and smell alone. The wrenching sobs had stopped, but she wasn't sure if this raw and cowed version of Lance was an improvement.

"Lance…." She rasped. God, was that all she could say? Why was she so useless?

"Pidge?" he asked, voice rough hewn by his earlier sobs, "Is that you?"

"Of course it's me," Pidge said, keeping the distance Lance seemed comfortable with. "Who else would I be?"

"Am I...Am I awake?" He asked, voice small. Pidge's heart hammered. Why was he asking that question? That was never a good question.

"Well, yeah," Pidge said, "It's past time for our training session."

"Oh, god. Por favor, no. No no no." Lance groaned, voice breaking. Instead of calming down like she thought he would, his breaths sped up in panic, "I thought-I hoped. Oh god, this is real."

"Lance," Pidge said, useless as a broken record, "Talk to me. What's...what's wrong?"

"I'm such an idiot!" Lance said, and Pidge flinched. Lance sped on, unaware. "I thought that alien from our last mission was lying. I didn't want to worry everyone. I'm always screwing things up. And with Shiro back, I thought - " His breath hitched, and he brought his knees to his chest, pressing his face to them "-I thought he was just trying to mess with my head, but-"

"Lance, look at me, please," Pidge said, edging slowly closer, "You're not making any sense."

Lance turned his glowing eyes back in her direction, and there was that sense of him looking _toward_ her but not _at_ her again. And then it clicked, even before Lance's next words, and she couldn't move. "That's the problem, Pidge," he said, voice pitched so low she could barely hear him, "I _can't_ look at you."

"What do you mean?" PIdge asked, refusing to believe what her intuition and Lance were trying to tell her.

"I mean I can't _see_ you," Lance said, burying his face again, but he was out of sobs. Then, whispering as if afraid ghosts might hear, "I can't see _anything._ "

PIdge couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. For a moment, time came to a grinding halt. Her brain flashed to their latest mission to the strange blue planet with the phosphorescent plant life. And a teeming Galra infestation. Lance had been captured, only for a few hours, but apparently that had been enough time for those monsters to do...whatever it was they'd done to him. Lance had said he was fine. He'd been just as boisterous and annoying as usual. Sure she'd caught some odd pensive looks from him, but she'd chalked it up to his up close and personal brush with the enemy. She hadn't even considered something this awful.

Then her heart slammed against her ribs and she jolted. She had to do something. Lance was floundering. Drowning in a bevy of emotions so strong, it had literally paralyzed him on the floor. He needed her, and she was just sitting there, mouth hanging open like that was going to solve anything.

She was probably going to make this worse, she knew, but she couldn't _not_ do anything.

She crept closer to Lance. "Listen, I'm going to come over to you, don't...don't freak out or anything, okay?"

For a moment, Lance didn't respond, then he nodded, head barely moving. His breaths didn't slow, though. That would have to be enough.

She took her time, not wanting to scare him the way she had before. Finally, when she was just in front of him, she said, "Okay, I'm in front of you now. I'm going to grab your hand."

He moved to hold it out for her, and she blinked in surprise, then smiled. His hand shook, but there it was. Even devastated out of his mind, he sought the comfort of physical touch. She reached out, unsure of herself, but sure it was what Lance wanted. As soon as their hands touched, he pulled her closer into a hug and she yelped in surprise.

His arms went limp around her. "Sorry, I was only - I just- I can't-" His voice was rising in panic.

"Lance," Pidge said before he could continue, "Don't make this weird." A weak, wuffing laugh left him at that, and she felt a flutter of something like hope. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, offering comfort in the only way she knew how. He melted around her, his shudders sending vibrations through them both as he folded his limbs to encase her. She was soon cradled cocoon like in his embrace. Then he took a deep breath that trembled with the rest of him and sighed as if in relief.

She couldn't be sure how long they stayed like that, but after a time, Lance's shaking faded, and he breathed more steadily.

Finally, he said softly, "Pidge."

She managed to extricate herself just enough that she was staring up at him from her position on his lap. His eyes were still glowing, but they unnerved her a little less. Fascinated her a little more. "What?"

"What am I going to do?" he asked.

"We'll get through this," She said automatically. Because they always did. That was how Team Voltron worked.

"I'm not...I mean, I know you think I'm just a goofball and all, but I thought I could at least…" Another wave of shudders passed through him and he broke off.

Pidge felt a stab of guilt and her throat burned. She'd said those words teasingly. She'd never meant for Lance to take them to heart. How could he think that was true?

"Lance, I don't think you're just a goofball," she said. She was scrambling for a way to undo the damage she'd done. She wasn't sure she could, not with this.

"It's okay," Lance's voice was hollow, "You don't have to lie."

She stiffened, "Lance, I'm not a liar. And I'm not just trying to make you feel better."

"Just forget what I asked, I shouldn't have even brought it up."

"Listen. I deal in facts. It's how I solve problems. And someone would have to conveniently forget a lot of facts if they were to side with you on this."

"I...what?"

"Like the fact that if you hadn't done what you did back at the Garrison, we wouldn't even be here, for example."

"That's not necessarily-"

"Or the fact that you've saved countless lives since you've become a paladin. Including my own, in case that means anything to you," she continued.

"Of course you do. But-"

"Or the fact that without you, we might forget to live a little."

"Pidge, stop, you're just-" Lance's voice was rising.

"And also the fact that, I like you."

"I said-!" Lance's voice cut off abruptly, and he narrowed his sightless eyes toward her, as if he could see her face if he concentrated hard enough, "Come again?"

"I said," she spoke in measured tones, her face burning, and she was guiltily glad he couldn't see it, "I like having you around."

Lance's face was frozen in shock. She didn't know what to say then, at a loss. Now she really _had_ screwed things up. She should go get the others. She'd need to eventually, anyway. Then slowly, before her eyes, Lance's face morphed into a familiar smug expression. Normally, it would be eyeroll inducing, but in that moment, she could've kissed him. If she'd known those words from her mouth had that kind of power over him, she would've led with that. "No," he shook his head, "You said 'I like you.'"

"Semantics," Pidge said evasively. "You get the point, though. You're...likeable."

He grinned broadly now, eyes glowing through the slits of his eyes, "Whatever you say Pidge. No one's immune to my charm forever."

And even though she knew this was only a temporary reprieve from their troubles coming forward, she welcomed it. They could work through this. Humor was Lance's shield, but also his strength. He ran a hand through her hair, his face softening, and to her surprise, she enjoyed the gesture. Suddenly, his eyes flared and she squeaked in surprise.

"Lance, your eyes just flashed!"

"What? What do you mean?" Lance's face took on a worried expression, and Pidge already regretted her outburst. She couldn't lie now, though. That would be a bad way to start this out.

""They glowed brighter just now…" she said.

"Wait, 'brighter?' As in, they were already glowing before?" He asked, incredulous.

Pidge felt terrible. "Yes."

"Are they...cool looking?" That was the last thing Pidge had expected, and she let out a bark of laughter. Lance's face fell.

"They're mesmerizing," Pidge said, and marvelled again at how simple truths from her seemed to transform Lance. He freaking _beamed_. In the metaphorical sense, in this case.

He pulled her in for another hug, and then Lance murmured. "Can we...wait to tell the others for a bit?"

Pidge shifted and settled in for the long haul. "We can wait as long as you need."

Later, as the sounds of the castle systems booting up for the day stirred them from their sleepy haze, Lance spoke.

"You know, there's something I'm going to miss seeing more than anything."

"Oh yeah, your own handsome face?" she asked, tone carefully light, afraid to break the careful moment of peace they'd formed.

"No, but I'm glad you appreciate it" he said. Pidge didn't even have the heart to roll her eyes. She only chuckled. Then he smiled sadly, "I'm going to miss seeing you."


End file.
